Same Old Day

We all have bad days, but the world pushes us forward like machines, and like robots we keep waking up in the morning to another day of the same old thing.

And yeah, my eyes are melting;

my feet are sweating;

it's a hurricane beneath my toes,

but I keep pushing on.

Feeling under the weather,

under a tether,

under chains that keep me bound

around my wrist;

it's tight, sticks like glue

to my skin that I just can't resist.

Pumping life with machines through

bones, dusty and old,

setting into a new storm,

setting into a new throne,

and I feel the world

clipping tongues and

force feeding oxygen into broken lungs;

they want me to stand on my

own two feet,

and keep strong

even through the wrong;

through the pain, the sorrows,

the broken hearts of another tomorrow.

So I keep waking to the sun,

give out this tired and weary yawn,

and open my eyes to today.

It's all that I've got to hold on.